Best 1141 quotes in «historical quotes» category

Humans were made for love and beauty; their vulnerability was what made them feel on the deepest level and what could also crush their will to live.

I am Calumny Spinks. Between me and the satin blue sky hangs the hempen noose. It has swung there in the faintest of breezes, waiting for me, all my life.

I am convinced that there is no host in the world today who is both knowledgeable about fine things and more sovereign in power, whom we shall adorn with the glorious folds of song.

I am going to be Queen of England,' I protest. 'You make it sound like a battle to the death.' 'It is a battle to the death,' she says simply. 'That is what it means to be Queen of England. You are not Melusina, rising from a fountain to easy happiness. You will not be a beautiful woman at court with nothing to do but make magic. The road you have chosen will mean that you have to spend your life scheming and fighting. Our task, as your family, is to make sure you win.

I canna let you die like Da,” he said softly. “And yet ye canna let me live,” she replied.

I didn't know then that the sweet life could be like honeysuckle smothering a barbed-wire fence.

I’d not wed you if you were the last creature in the kingdom.

If I kiss you now, I won't be able to stop.

I do no' think ye should lick me leg.

Ien stopped her voice with more kisses, more promises of a world filled with only them.

...If statistics are right, the Jews constitute but one percent of the human race. It suggests a nebulous dim puff of stardust lost in the blaze of the Milky way. properly, the Jew ought hardly to be heard of, but he is heard of, has always been heard of. He is as prominent on the planet as any other people, and his commercial importance is extravagantly out of proportion to the smallness of his bulk. His contributions to the world’s list of great names in literature, science, art, music, finance, medicine, and abstruse learning are also away out of proportion to the weakness of his numbers. He has made a marvelous fight in this world, in all the ages; and had done it with his hands tied behind him. He could be vain of himself, and be excused for it. “The Egyptian, the Babylonian, and the Persian rose, filled the planet with sound and splendor, then faded to dream-stuff and passed away; the Greek and the Roman followed; and made a vast noise, and they are gone; other people have sprung up and held their torch high for a time, but it burned out, and they sit in twilight now, or have vanished. The Jew saw them all, beat them all, and is now what he always was, exhibiting no decadence, no infirmities of age, no weakening of his parts, no slowing of his energies, no dulling of his alert and aggressive mind. All things are mortal but the Jew; all other forces pass, but he remains. What is the secret of his immortality?

If life deals you a lousy hand .... BLUFF!

If you call a gypsy a vagabond, I think you do him wrong, For he never goes a-travelling but he takes his home along. And the only reason a road is good, as every wanderer knows, Is just because of the homes, the homes, the homes to which it goes.

I hardly know her but whenever I see her I lose my mind. I know I should run away, but I can’t. “That’s called sexual attraction, honey,” Max said. “It’s very nice. But be careful. It can burn you bad. Believe me I know.

I’m all alone against the darkness. Dark winds rising against me.

Imagination is highly suspect. Reality is what is beautiful. But we are blind to it because it is familiar.

I love you, Louise Downe McCord. You drive me absolutely crazy sometimes, and this is one of those times, but I love you.

I may not have journeyed to other lands, but a trip through the fairy glade is a journey few others have taken, and fewer still have spoken of. I will look forward to taking you with me, Killian. You will see why I always feel the need to return." He was not remotely certain he would ever share her sentiments.

I mean to explore you thoroughly this time.” “Take heed, Captain. I’m prepared to answer all threats measure for measure.

I’m not only my father’s daughter, but also a daughter of the nation he founded. And protecting both is what I’ve always done.

It is inner duty, not outer achievement, that wins peace.

In ancient Ireland the soul had but to stretch out its arms to fill them with beauty. Now all manner of ugliness besets the world.

In the end, I listen to my fear. It keeps me awake, resounding through the frantic beating in my breast. It is there in the dry terror in my throat, in the pricking of the rats’ nervous feet in the darkness. Christian has not come home all the night long. I know, for I have lain in this darkness for hours now with my eyes stretched wide, yearning for my son’s return.

I’m sorry,” he said in a soft voice while leaning closer to her, “for taking liberties earlier. I hope I didn’t offend you.” “You kissed me,” she answered, equally quietly, then laughed out loud. “I was a little shocked at first, perhaps, but I’m over it.” “Over it?” His heart sank. Not the reaction he’d hoped. Perhaps he was out of practice. “I rather enjoyed it, if you must know. It has been a long time since I’ve had such a kiss. Nothing like a bold and lingering kiss. How I’ve missed it. Ah, now you look shocked. Good. I’ve had my revenge.

In America, I appear more simple that I am, because I was completely out of my element. It was my misfortune, not my fault, that I was born in a country which was not congenial to my desires. -1815, in a letter to her father William Patterson

In London, Alexander knows, they like neither his sister nor himself. Society considers the Tsar silly and vain, a ballroom dancer with golden curls and a lorgnette up his sleeve, an aloof monarch who turns a deaf ear, as Napolean said of him at Erfurt, to anything he does not want to hear. In effect, when the Tsar turns an ear, it is only to favour the right, as he is quite deaf in the left. Yes, Alexander loves to dance, he is myopic, he turns a deaf ear. What of it?

In no other type of warfare does the advantage lie so heavily with the aggressor.

Inrealized how valuable the art and practice of writing letters are, and how important it is to remind people of what a treasure letters--handwritten letters--can be. In our throwaway era of quick phone calls, faxes, and email, it's all to easy never to find the time to write letters. That's a great pity--for historians and the rest of us.

In the distance, the mist parted and a woman slowly rose from the ground. She had creamy white skin and her hair was black as night. Her sheer gown was covered with leaves and ivy. Twigs shimmered and twisted into a high collar which looked as if they had sprouted from her shoulders. With magical grace, as if the woman floated, she made her way forward. “The winter fae queen,” Leana whispered. “What brings such tender creatures to my woods?” the queen asked.

It had never occurred to me that simply being with a fellow prisoner would make me feel like I was still in prison.

It is surprising how many great men started out as horse thieves.

It is too late for me to learn your wisdom in this matter. From the time I knew aught, I have lived with a knight and his lady whose love lit and warmed the dark hall on winter's nights. Madam, my example comes not from any book of romance. My grandparents walked and breathed; they kissed and quarreled. This I must have, and I will seek it with the point of my knife in a bad husband's heart if I can find it no other way.

It takes a village to raise a child, they say, and it takes a community to raise a genius, no matter how singular the individual.

It's time we woke up, women are pretty much people, seems to me. I know they dress like fools- but who´s to blame for that? We invent all those idiotic hats of theirs, and design their crazy fashions, and, what's more, if a woman is courageous enough to wear common-sense clothes -and shoes- which of us wants to dance with her? Yes, we blame them for gratifying us, but are we willing to let our wives work? We are not. It hurts our pride, that's all. We are always criticizing them for doing mercenary marriages, but what do we call a girl who marries a chump with no money? Just a poor fool, that's all. And they know it. As for Mother Eve- I wasn't there and I can't deny the story, but I will say this. If she brought evil into the world, we men have had the loin's share of keeping it going ever since- how about that?

It takes Passion to bring a Vision to Life.

I've deprived my family in order to buy books. No doubt there is a special punishment in hell for such self-indulgence. Perhaps I shall be struck with blindness among the rarest known to men.

It was regarded as almost outside the proper interest of an analyst to give systematic attention to a person's real experiences.

I've fallen in love with you. I love you even now when you sit before me with the eyes of a wolf. So take pity upon the fool I have become. I forgot it was only a bargain between us.

I was torn apart. But you, my knight, you found all the pieces and put me back together.

I want to talk to you. I want to listen to you. I want to walk with you and, yes, I want you in my bed. That's what I want today. That's what I'll want in a hundred years. If you promise to be my wife forever, I will pledge myself to your happiness.

I was asked the other day in which era I would choose to live. As a historical novelist, it comes up sometimes. As a woman I'd have to say I'd like to live in the future - I want to see where these centuries of change are leading us.

I was young--so young--naive, isolated in a small world of safety and comfort too soon shattered by a phone call.

Lord Randall barreled inside, brandishing his cane in Drew's face. "You beggarly knave, I was told this marriage was in name only! Who gave you permission to consummate the vows?" "Theodore Hopkin, governor of this colony, representative of the kind, and it's going to cost you plenty, for that daughter of yours is nothing but trouble. What in the blazes were you thinking to allow her an education?" Drew bit back his smile at the man's shocked expression. Nothing like landing the first punch. Lord Randall furrowed his bushy gray brows. "I knew not about her education until it was too late." Drew straightened the cuffs of his shirt. "Well, be prepared to pay dearly for it. No man should have to suffer through what I do with the constant spouting of the most addlepated word puzzles you could imagine." ----------------------------------------- "I require fifteen thousand pounds." Lord Randall spewed ale across the floor. "What! Surely drink has tickled your poor brain. You're a FARMER, you impudent rascal. I'll give you five thousand." Drew plopped his drink onto the table at his side, its contents sloshing over the rim. A satisfied smile broke across his face. "Excellent." He stood. "When will you take her back to England with you? Today? Tomorrow?" The old man's red-rimmed eyes widened. "I cannot take her back. Why, she's already birthed a child!" Drew shrugged. "Fifteen thousand or I send her AND the babe back, with or without you.

I win the battles with the dreams of my soldiers," he would say. The content of those dreams was myriad, and evolved over time...

Listening to him tell the story now, it was clear to Adam that Glendower was more than a historical figure to Gansey. He was everything Gansey wished he could be: wise and brave, sure of his path, touched by the supernatural, respected by all, survived by his legacy.

Lord help the girl he set those eyes on for good. His boyish vulnerability was a weapon, powerful and disarming.

Look. Isn't he beautiful?" Drew's expression softened. "Ah, Nellie. He's bald, pink, and has no teeth. What's so beautiful about that?" Nellie's laugh tinkled out like musical chimes while she covered the babe back up.

Love should never be a game.

Many years ago there lived a man called Laurids Madsen who went up to heaven and came down again thanks to his boots.

Love was something he had banished from his life years ago out of necessity, but she made him yearn to be loved.